


All Sorts of Rules

by giantessmess



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-11
Updated: 2006-02-11
Packaged: 2018-11-20 03:31:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11327769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giantessmess/pseuds/giantessmess
Summary: Scully turns to Fowley out of the need for human contact.





	All Sorts of Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [ScullySlash](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Scully_Slash_Archive), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works.. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [ScullySlash's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/scullyslash/profile).
> 
> And now an actual updated author note from 2017: Lol. look, it's something I wrote over ten years ago. Back when Livejournal was a thing and people habitually wrote fic in second person. And I was obsessed with rare pairs.

All Sorts of Rules

### All Sorts of Rules

#### by giantessmess

  


Disclaimer: characters are owned by Christ Carter/Ten Thirteen. 

"I don't trust you." 

"We're even then. What's there to trust?" 

It starts simply. Lonely days in the basement office. You, sick of Spender. And Scully, sick of Him. Tired of lagging behind him like a perfume trail, as he turns every crap assignment into an X-file. Or steals the folders right from your desks. It doesn't matter how many files Spender shreds, or how much Scully mutters, "Damn it - it's against the rules." 

There are lots of rules she's breaking by sharing a bed with you. But of course Mulder would never know about those nights. He can only wonder, when she doesn't answer her cell. You can always feel it vibrate on the nightstand, as Scully moans with your fingers inside her. 

"Let it....ring." 

He's paranoid. The phone goes on and on, like Scully's gasps, as she rides out her orgasm. 

"He's going to get suspicious," you say, as her breathing slows and she stretches beneath your sheets. 

"He has enough on his mind." And she gives you a look, as if she knows. Knows intimately how much you've already betrayed him. But then she kisses you with too much sweetness, and you wonder if she has any clue. 

Anyone would be lonely with Mulder as their constant, their only example of humanity to gauge their days by. It isn't a wonder that she turned to you. The only wonder is how long it's lasted. 

There are nights where you test her, push her over the edge, tease her until she begs. You like to punish her, enjoying the feeling of her muscles, tightening over your fist. The bruises that fade to yellow on her breasts. But she never cries his name, not even in her sleep. She doesn't do anything but draw on her religious background. 

"God...Oh, Jesus." 

She never says your name either, unless you take it from her forcibly. 

"I want to hear it." 

"Diana," she gasps, and you stop teasing her, until she moans "Diana Diana," between each breath, like she's discovered a new form of punctuation. 

You don't talk about work, because you'd only disagree. It would only remind you of the fact that you hate her, really. She hates you, and knows you are one of her less intelligent mistakes. The only thing you can agree on are the things that make her shiver, and which side of the bed you both fall to at the end of the night.  
  

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to giantessmess


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